


judge not, akira

by strangelysweet



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad Decisions, Break Up, Emotions, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Voicemail, breakup but then get back together bc the longing is far too strong, haru okumura is trans and there is nothing you can do about it, several bad coping methods, so many of them, so much of it, very bad use of alcohol to cope with problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangelysweet/pseuds/strangelysweet
Summary: Akira stares at his phone in wonder. Goro really is drunk. Extremely so, if he's asking Akira to talk to him about what happened. Akira pushes off the wall, slowly meandering his way to the train station. It'd be a good idea to check up on him, just in case. The next voicemail waits."Aha, Akira's voicemail. You know, I think I've spent more time talking to you than the actual person himself. I wonder what he's doing right now... Maybe he's turned his phone off at the bar, reaching second base with the cute guy making eyes at him from across the room. Maybe he's out drinking with old, boring friends from high school. Who knows?"There is a pause. More clinking glass."You know, you're going to dig down real deep, Akira, and you're going to figure out that everyone is a sinner. Everyone lies. You lie, I lie. Everyone is a sinner, Akira. I'm just surprised it took you so long to figure me out. It was sweet that you thought I could make it this far without fucking it up."-------They can't take this. Not right now.He has seven new voicemails.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kurusu Akira & Takamaki Ann, Kurusu Akira & Togo Hifumi, Okumura Haru/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	judge not, akira

**Author's Note:**

> link to the fan art that inspired this fic: https://mobile.twitter.com/insertdisc5/status/1278863220065927169?s=12

The alarm clock is unplugged. Akira insists that it's kept that way to stop Goro from going to work on Sundays when he doesn't need to. Goro goes anyway, fetching his tie and buckling his belt. Akira is languidly stretched out on the sheets, the morning light casting strips of liquid gold over his skin. He stretches, a few pops coming from his arms. 

"Goro, come back to bed. It's a _Sunday_." He says, pulling him closer by the belt loops. Goro sighs, letting himself be pulled back onto the bed. Akira's long limbs cage him to the mattress, pressing him back down when he tries to sit up. Leaning on his elbows, he sighs as Akira unknots his tie. 

"I have to go. I want to get a head start on this case." He tries, but his boyfriend ignores him, throwing his belt to the floor. 

"If you loved me, you'd stay one more hour." He says, like a little, slimy traitor. Goro pales, then pushes Akira off of him gently. His boyfriend sits up, the sheets pooling around his hips like seafoam. Goro reties his necktie and stays silent for as long as he can before his thoughts spill out of his head. 

"How many people have you said that to?" 

Akira blinks, then raises an eyebrow, his expression changing. "Said what exactly, Goro?"

He sighs exasperatedly, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You know what, Akira. How many people have you used that line on?" 

The dark-haired young man smiles humorlessly, laughing hollowly. "Are we really going to talk about this now?" 

"Yes! We are going to talk about this now!" Goro yells, yanking his tie loose and throwing it to the floor. Akira's eyes flash. "How many people have you used that line on?" 

"'Used that line'? What are you, jealous or scared?" Akira says, deflecting the question. 

Goro pushes his hair out of his face. "Scared of what? Being _played_? I think that's pretty rational." 

Akira's eyes burn with bright fury. He stands up. "This isn't about that, and you know it. This is about your issue with actually talking about feelings. I'm not a robot, Goro, it's only natural I _feel_ things."

Goro scoffs, looking away. Akira throws words around like they mean nothing. He's so expressive, that's what drew Goro to him. His intensity, his vivid personality. Akira is so beautiful, even when he's angry, light streaming behind him. 

It makes him look like an angel, furious and self-righteous in how he thinks he's doing Goro a favor. He's not.

"But do you really? Do you really feel like that towards me?" He growls, jabbing a hand to his sternum. "Or is that what you say to everyone who's comfortable with you?" 

Akira angles his face so he's looking down at Goro. "Isn't that what love is? Being comfortable with someone?"

He looks away, the word shining in Akira's mouth like fool's gold. Unreal, shiny, desirable, but false. It isn't real, he keeps telling himself. Akira continues, inching closer. "You're _jealous_ , Goro. Why are you jealous?" 

"Did you sleep with someone while we were broken up?" Goro blurts out, meeting his boyfriend's eyes.

Akira's face changes, surprise flickering behind his steel-grey eyes. He doesn't say anything for a while, then looks over his shoulder at the window. "No. I'm insulted you asked me that." 

Goro sighs, leaning against the wall. His head connects with the plaster, the pain narrowing down his anger into something sharp. 

"Believe me, Goro, I only have eyes for you. The break-up tore me apart," Akira pleads, trying to cup his boyfriend's face, "I love you."

Goro wrenches free, kicking off the wall. "No, you don't. You _think_ you do."

"Don't tell me what I think!" Akira hisses, the tenderness falling away. 

The sun falters behind the shutters, the golden strips of light fading to cold, grey panels on the floor. 

"Goro, why are you insisting I don't love you? It's not just hurting me, it's hurting you too. I know it is." 

Goro doesn't answer for a while, his knuckles white. 

"You go through boyfriends like you go through clothes, Akira. Forgive me if I don't quite believe you when you try to get me under your thumb like that." He hisses, sending a venomous look to the dark-haired young man. 

Akira's mouth drops open. "You think I'm trying to manipulate you? Goro, I've never been anything but honest with you." 

"Tell me his name. I know you slept with someone else." Goro demands, pressing him for answers. 

Akira's voice cracks, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't."

Goro slams his fist against the wall. Words are bubbling underneath his tongue, scalding hot like fireworks. Akira looks determined. This is far from over, Goro can tell that much. 

"Did you sleep with someone? It's only fair I get to ask you a question." He says, and Goro can hear the tears underneath his voice. This tension is starting to fray the rope, he can feel it. 

"I didn't," Goro says, his jaw twitching. 

Akira blinks, tears falling from his cold eyes. "Your jaw twitches to the right when you lie. Who was it?" 

Goro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't remember, I had a few drinks one night, and the other-"

Akira interrupts him. "There were multiple people?" 

He can't take this anymore. Anger fizzes in his blood, like little stars searing through his veins. 

"Goro? I don't care, we were broken up at the time. It's okay, we don't have to argue anymore." Akira says, smiling through the tears. 

"One of them was Ryuji." Goro blurts out, not looking his boyfriend in the eye.

Akira sits back down on the bed, his head in his hands. Goro regrets everything. He deliberates just running out of the door, leaving forever. He doesn't. The thought makes him sick. Akira looks up at him, fire in his eyes.

"So you basically call me a slut, demand I stop telling you how I feel, then reveal that you've not only slept with someone else, but you've slept with my best friend?" He questions icily, pushing his slender fingers through his hair.

He nods. It's all he can do. 

"I'm leaving, Goro. I can't do this anymore." Akira whispers, turning to look out of the window. 

And so he does, snatching up his clothes before slamming the door behind him. 

There is quiet. 

The bar is warm, the purple lights staining everything a mind-bending shade of fuschia. Akira hasn't touched his drink, he just swirls the toothpick-speared olive around the base of his glass. Hifumi sighs, leaning on the bar. 

"Akira, you look like you're going to mope into another plane of existence. You're here to have fun, no?" She asks, taking a sip of her beer. 

Akira shrugs. "I'm not sure. I'd hate to keep you pinned down, though."

Hifumi laughs shortly, then takes a sip of her beer. "Don't be silly, Akira. I'm here because you need me." 

She smiles, then pats him on the back. Akira smiles back ruefully. Hifumi has been his friend for years. There's a certain calm she brings, like the eye of the storm. She never really got along with Goro, but Akira likes her all the same. They're too similar to be friends. Hifumi is smart, tactical, and aloof. The only difference between the pair of them was the warmth she brought. Goro was icy until he was searing hot. Hifumi was far less extreme. 

They talk for a while, Akira offering half-hearted replies until he pushes Hifumi to go have fun. He shouldn't tether her down like this. She leaves him to flirt with a girl in leather pants and a biker jacket. It's fine. Everything is fine. He has to be better than how Goro's doing, that's the rule. Akira knows it's futile. Goro is never an inch away from perfect. Perfect at his job, at chess, at basically everything. Even the sex was perfect. Akira sighs then glances at his phone. It's lit up with several messages and a few missed calls, all from Goro. Probably asking him to pick up his stuff before he sets it on fire. He can deal with that later. He turns the phone over, so it's face down on the bar.

A blonde girl is sitting next to him, sipping on a colorful drink. As she flips her hair over her shoulder, Akira realizes that it's Ann. She must have come back early from her gap year in the States. 

"Ann!" He says over the music. She turns, then her eyes widen. 

"Oh, my God, Akira! Babe, how have you been? I've missed you so much!" She squeals, drawing him into the tightest hug Akira didn't know he needed. She smells like designer perfume and the glittering vanilla powder on her skin. 

Ann looks brilliant. Akira hasn't seen her for a year, but she's wearing her hair down, hell, she might even have grown taller. She draws back, her earring glimmering in the violet lights. 

"Are you and Goro still at it? Last time I saw you, you two were going through a rough patch." She says sympathetically, her shiny red nails tapping on her glass like beetle wings. 

Akira swallows. "I think we're broken up. For good, this time." 

Ann sucks a breath between her teeth, her fingers stopping their tapping. "Oh, Akira, baby." 

She places a hand on his and gives it a squeeze. He gives her a short smile, then sighs, shaking his head. "It was bound to happen. We argue a lot, but usually not to the point of tears." 

Ann's tender face darkens. "He made you cry? That _bitch_ , I never liked him. He always looked down on everyone else. Apart from you, of course." 

He sighs, then places his cheek on Ann's shoulder. "I do love him, though." 

"I know, baby. I know." Ann says, stroking his hair. 

A tall young lady in a pinstripe suit jacket and matching slacks perches on the bar, a half-empty Sidecar in her hand. She has short, curly hazelnut-colored hair, a lofty look in her eye, and a large amethyst ring on her middle finger. Ann smiles, then pats Akira's shoulder. 

"Akira, have you met Haru Okumura?" She says, her voice brimming with excitement. 

Haru smiles, and extends a hand, her ring glinting in the dim light. "I do believe we've met before." 

Akira frowns quizzically. "You do seem familiar. Are you a friend of Goro's?" 

Haru laughs, a sonorous, elegant sound. "You know him, too? A 'friend' may or may not be pushing it. We went to the same elementary school." 

Akira nods. Haru continues. "But I met you in middle school, although I had a different name." 

He peers at her face, then it dawns on him. "Oh, right! You look wonderful."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you to say." She chuckles, then rests her hand on the necklace hanging from her neck, brushing against her exposed chest. Ann blushes slightly, then tucks a piece of Haru's hair behind her ear. 

"I met Haru in the States. She was on a business trip, and she helped me out of a particularly sticky situation," She says, then looks away bashfully. 

"Her wallet had been stolen. I took it back from the thief." Haru giggles. Akira blinks in surprise. Ann nods then grasps Haru's hand. 

"We've been dating for a while." She adds, pecking the young woman's cheek.

Akira's phone buzzes on the table, and he picks it up, looking at who was calling him. He hangs up the minute he sees Goro's name. Haru laughs. 

"I've never seen someone with the courage to hang up on Goro Akechi. How do you two know each other?" 

Ann winces. "They broke up a few hours ago. They've been seeing each other on and off for a few years." 

Akira nods. "We met in high school." 

Haru makes a perfect O-shape with her mouth, then takes a sip of her cocktail. They fall into casual conversation, trading stories and jokes over the sound of the music. Somewhere along the line, Akira phases out of listening, gazing at the dancefloor. A short ginger girl is dancing with a lithe redhead, staring into each other's eyes like there's nothing else to see in the world. Akira winces internally but keeps a straight face. He can get through one night without being 'overdramatic'. 

His gaze falls to a tall young man with dark, blue hair. Willowy and graceful, he's draped across the bar, tapping his fingers to the bass-boosted music. Akira thinks about going to talk to him. He's rather beautiful, with long eyelashes and full lips. Akira stands up, making his way over to him. 

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asks, leaning on the bar next to him. The young man perks up, giving Akira his full attention.

"That would be lovely, thank you." His voice is smooth and low, sailing elegantly over the music. 

The bartender slides a glass over to the dark-haired man, who wraps his hand around the glass with grace. 

"What's your name?" He asks, smiling coyly.

"Akira. Yours?" 

"That's a pretty name. I'm Yusuke." Yusuke says, resting his chin on his hand. 

Akira looks up at him through his lashes. "Suits you. Where are you from? I don't think I've seen you around." 

Yusuke takes a delicate sip of his drink. "I just arrived in the city. My art exhibit opened up near here." 

"Oh, you're an artist? I should have known, you have that kind of look to you." He hums, smiling like a fox. 

Yusuke arches an eyebrow in amusement. "And what kind of look is that?" 

Akira taps his fingers on the bar, barely grazing Yusuke's hand. The lights are dark blue now, with flashes of turquoise reflecting in his drink. 

"You know," He traces the cuff of Yusuke's white shirt, "Tall, dark, handsome." 

He laughs, tucking a piece of navy blue hair behind his ear. "You think I'm handsome?" 

Akira bites his lip. Yusuke is cute. Too cute. He shouldn't be using him as a rebound. The artist gazes back down at him, almost knowingly. Akira has the feeling that Yusuke knows already. He has a bad habit of wearing his emotions like jewelry, bright and ornamental, out for everyone to see. 

Nevertheless, he nods, smiling softly. "Yeah. I do."

"We don't have to do this now. Contact me when you've sorted yourself out. It was a pleasure to meet you, Akira." Yusuke says, pressing a kiss to Akira's hand. 

He slips him a business card, then leaves the bar. Akira watches him go. His phone buzzes in his pocket for the umpteenth time, and he can't bring himself to answer it. Slipping the business card into his other pocket, he heads outside. Akira leans against the brick wall, watching the missed calls notifications pile up. All of them are from Goro. He sighs. He opens the first one. 

"Akira, call me back when you get this. You've still got some clothes over here. It'd be best if you collected them tomorrow morning. I'll... I'll see you then." 

There's a pause before the message ends. Akira sighs. This is typical Goro. Call for efficiency, eliminate all loose ends. He just wonders why there are seven of them. Maybe it was a mistake. He presses the next one. 

"I can see you've received it, Akira. Call me. We need to discuss what time you'll come and get your things. Preferably after eight." 

Akira huffs out a humorless laugh. Of course, he was getting angry for no reason. As Akira clicked the next button, he prepared himself for yelling. 

"Fine. Be like that. Just be here, tomorrow, by eight or I'm donating your shit to the local charity store. Just... Stay safe. I won't pick you up this time." 

No yelling, just condescending, thinly veiled insults. Akira finds himself grateful that he cares. God, this is exactly what losing looks like: Missing the ex just after the breakup. He is so pathetic. Akira hits his head back against the brick wall, the cold air permeating his thin shirt. The price of being sexy is high. Maybe _too_ high. Whatever. The next voicemail is waiting. 

"I can't fucking believe you, Akira! Just return my calls, it's not that hard. Whoever you're seducing can wait, I just... I just want to _talk_ with you. God, this is bullshit. Don't answer these."

He's slurring his words a little bit in that one. Akira wonders if he's drunk. He couldn't be, Goro never gets drunk. He thinks. The next call came in a while after the last one. 

"Fucking talk to me, Akira! You know this isn't fair. You've spent enough time being angry, so just get back over here." He groans as if he's in pain, muttering something about his head. There is a clink of glass in the background. "Just answer me, Akira. Answer my calls." 

Akira stares at his phone in wonder. Goro really _is_ drunk. Extremely so, if he's asking Akira to talk to him about what happened. Akira pushes off the wall, slowly meandering his way to the train station. It'd be a good idea to check up on him, just in case. The next voicemail waits. 

"Aha, Akira's voicemail. You know, I think I've spent more time talking to you than the actual person himself. I wonder what he's doing right now... Maybe he's turned his phone off at the bar, reaching second base with the cute guy making eyes at him from across the room. Maybe he's out drinking with old, boring friends from high school. Who knows?"

There is a pause. More clinking glass.

"You know, you're going to dig down _real_ deep, Akira, and you're going to figure out that everyone is a sinner. Everyone lies. You lie, I lie. Everyone is a sinner, Akira. I'm just surprised it took you so long to figure me out. It was sweet that you thought I could make it this far without fucking it up." 

Akira sits, alone, in the station. Goro's voice is cracking, and Akira doesn't know if he's crying or if he's on the verge of screaming. The train screeches to a halt on the platform and Akira gets on. It's the mindless cycle of commuting, no matter what time it is. The trains are constant, they never change their cycle of on and off again. He rides for about half an hour from Shibuya to Kichijoji. The streets are still brightly lit with lamps and lights from the stores. The darts place where Akira used to hang out with everyone from high school was still open, but barely. The poor sucker on the night shift was sweeping the steps, the tinny sound of their music audible in the faint hum of after-hours life. Quietly, the sound of music comes from the back alley near Goro's apartment. 

Mune sits outside, smoking in the dim light of the alley, the music from his club wafting into the streets. Akira gives him a small wave as he presses the buzzer for Goro's apartment. Mune smiles back but doesn't lift his hand. 

The seventh and final voicemail stares balefully up at him as he waits for the door to unlock. Akira's thumb hovers over it, but the loud click of the lock stops him. His footsteps echo on the stairs as he climbs to the fifth floor, and eventually, so does the sound of Goro's voice from his phone. 

"Akira, I... I'll be honest with you. I'm not sure why I'm still calling you. I don't know where you are, but I know that it's not here, and that makes me... It makes me feel _something_. I know that you're probably out there, having a good time and that you're not even thinking of me right now, but I miss you. You don't understand how hard that is for me to say. You have everything so easy. You feel things so deeply, and that... Well, it scares me. It's like swimming in an ocean, and it's all so deep, and you're so small, but you're not alone. There's something in the water with you. The difference between you and me is that you're not afraid of what's underneath the surface."

Akira leans against the wall, slouching against the plaster. There is a pause, then Goro continues. 

"Remember how I said I was scared you were playing me? That was a lie. I was scared of you loving me. You loving something that's scared to love back. Akira, I'm terrified. I'm terrified because everything I've built up for myself, the walls I've put up, they're all being taken apart. You're destroying me, piece by piece."

The sound of traffic is small, but it leaks through the open window. Akira can smell the rain coming before it hits the glass lightly, tapping with delicate fingers. The lights streak across the window like watercolors, blending the outside world together so all there is Akira and Goro's voice. Akira places a finger on the cold glass, watching the raindrops slide down behind his fingertip. Goro's voice sighs. 

"Akira, I'm scared because I love you. I love you, and it goes against everything I've conditioned myself to be. Brick by brick, you've destroyed and rebuilt me. Don't you understand? I'm in love with you." 

Akira's finger presses harder against the glass. The voicemail ends there. He scales the stairs, his phone shaking in his hand as he grips the handrail with the other. By the time he's gotten to Goro's apartment door, he can't describe the way he feels. That's never happened before. Akira _always_ knows how he feels. Feelings swim in his mind like small, darting fish, aching to be let out. He knocks on the door. 

There isn't an answer for a moment, then it creaks open, showing an impressive display of green bottles. Akira can't count the number of bottles on two hands. Goro stands in the doorway, an old, grey shirt hanging off of him. He looks like shit. Goro has _never_ looked like shit in his entire life. Akira thinks it's beautiful. They don't talk for a moment, they just look at each other. Goro's eyes drift down to the phone in Akira's hand, and he winces sullenly. 

"You listened." He says. Akira nods. 

"Of course I did." He replies, taking a step forward. 

Goro steps back. He looks away, gazing at the blend of colors behind the shutters. The rain has stopped, but the window is still dotted with tiny diamonds, little reflections of the big city trapped inside. Goro looks tired. He looks small. Akira's never seen him like this before. 

Goro gazes at him, and his voice comes out strangled. "I'm so scared, Akira." 

He steps forward again, and Goro doesn't recoil. Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders, pressing him against his chest. Hesitantly, Goro's arms wrap around him, too. 

"I know. I love you." His shirt is wet from Goro's tears.

"I love you, too." 

Akira only hugs him tighter, standing in the doorway. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to veronica mars for giving me inspiration via logan echolls.  
> if you haven't watched veronica mars, shut up and go watch it now. go on. off you pop.


End file.
